


Song

by 1000014



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4179111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000014/pseuds/1000014
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murdoc doesn't like people interfering with his music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Song

“Really, 2-D? Is that what you think?”

Murdoc’s fist cracked against 2-D’s jaw, forceful enough to send him to the floor. He spat out blood. “What the hell Muds? It’s not a big deal, it’s just one time!” 2-D tried to stand, a Cuban heel kicking him down again. It caught him hard in the ribs, causing a wheezing sound. Murdoc continued kicking 2-D in the stomach, then the groin, finishing by stepping on his face. He bent down, smirking. “I know I’m right. Don’t fight me on this one.”  
Russell had already evacuated Noodle for her own good, knowing what 2-D said would cause hell. 2-D tried to talk. He tried to apologise. He also had to hide the slight lump growing in his trousers. Murdoc kicked his face, turning him around. He curled in a ball, tears forming in his dented eyes. With his back to Murdoc he smiled a bloody grin. _Just one thing, one little thing. Always leads to this._  
“Murdoc, just once! Let me do it this once, I wanna see what it would be like!”  
“No.”  
A sharp kick penetrated 2-D’s backbone. Murdoc disappeared briefly, shuffling around in his bass case. He returned with a cold metal something, sliding it up 2-D’s shirt. It pinged open, a sharp cutting feeling running down 2-D’s back. Then the blood. 2-D thought to himself how much blood he could lose, most of it heading to his penis he was now covering with both hands. Murdoc stood up, pulling his fags from his pocket. He watched 2-D cough, blood spots forming on the floor. He also noticed very slight hand movements from the corner of his eye.

He _enjoyed_ this cigarette.

Watching the younger man suffer underneath his feet. Watching him squirm. Murdoc felt enlightened. He poked his boot into the cut on 2-D’s back, taking a long drag. _Right._ He bent down again, blowing smoke in 2-D’s face, almost sexually. He then pushed the still lit butt into 2-D’s rub cage. It smouldered, leaving a red circle on 2-D’s body. He yelped, his rib cage twitching, the obvious bones contorting to movement. The hand twitched with it, 2-D throwing his head back grinning at Murdoc with blood stained teeth. Murdoc’s own strange eyes looked 2-D’s body up and down, and he stood up with a grunt.

“Getting old Muds…”

Murdoc snapped again. He grabbed a fist full of blue hair, dragging him to the wall. He left him there momentarily, pushing a few buttons on the studio equipment. Music blasted out from the rehearsal room, echoing around Kong. “You’re gonna scream. Russ’ll come running, and I don’t want that.” 2-D stared into space, blood smeared smirk on his face. Murdoc threw a tape deck at his face, resulting in blood flowing from the singers nose. “What, Muds?”  
Murdoc returned to his victim, pulling him up by the shoulders. 2-D just stood there, exactly what the older man wanted. Every time, always what he wanted. Murdoc stripped 2-D down to just his t-shirt. Bruises were already forming over 2-D’s body, blood stained. He slowly brought his arms up, wrapping them around Murdoc’s neck. He initiated a blood fuelled kiss, Murdoc tonguing the inside of his mouth, tasting red.  
2-D buckled at the knees slightly, giving Murdoc the opportunity to lift 2-D’s hips up, the singer wrapping his legs round him. 2-D weighed almost nothing, Murdoc pushing him into the wall. 2-D had become used to sex without lube, so he wondered what Murdoc meant by ‘he would scream’. The sound of the bassists creation vibrated through 2-D’s gaunt spine, arching itself forward as Murdoc touched the entrance of his internal body.  
And with strength, 2-D was pushed down, hard, his sliced back aching against the wall. The wound opened again, oozing over his rib shape, resting on Murdoc’s hands, which clutched 2-D’s buttocks. 2-D screamed, feeling Murdoc in his stomach. Murdoc’s slender fingers tensed, his nails puncturing soft skin. He pushed, harder and harder, deep into his singer, his possession. He moved on hand up, using the wall to keep his stability. He grasped 2-D’s throat, once again letting his nails cut into the singer.  
Murdoc leant his head to 2-D’s ear very quietly saying “I fucking love you. Don’t fuck with me. I own you.” 2-D’s own penis was trapped between the two bodies, rubbing, 2-D letting out tiny gasps, yet as his penetration grew deep, louder screams. Murdoc had his eyes closed, serenity on his face, something which 2-D always though meant much more than just sex. Murdoc’s own back arched sharply, his shoulder muscles tensing to keep the younger man up, yet, with one last push, relaxing completely. 2-D bit his lip as Murdoc released inside him. From this action alone, 2-D came himself, not realising at first, the feeling of total release creeping over his body. Both men fell onto each other, panting heavily.  
Murdoc clambered to his bag again, pulling out a bottle of disinfectant. “Take your top off 2-D.” Obedient as ever, 2-D did as he said, his back sore and red from the onslaught. Murdoc, with great care applied the liquid to the wound, 2-D almost hissing at the sensation. Murdoc sat him back up, smiling. “Please don’t ever suggest I play something different on my song, Stu.”


End file.
